Three Steps Behind

Walking together, a beautiful empty road. Now three steps behind. Face turned away, still feeling a sight. Avoiding a stare, a hidden truth. Air is ever changing, but stays the same. Ahead, releasing a frigid breeze against a warm flushed cheek. A boundless touch, causing a jagged heart to bleed. An open wound, only a kiss can cure. An open palm reaching for a closed fist. Internally elegant, flirting with my imagination. Discarding my scarlet glasses, revealing a beautiful tear streaked face. Clear skies arise, a butterfly drifts by. He smiles, and walks away. I am three steps behind.